


Metaphorical Buses and Being a Hero

by Diary



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Canon Character of Color, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Established Austin/Justin Suarez, Established Hilda Suarez/Bobby Talercio, Established Relationship, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Interracial Relationship, Multi, POV Bobby Talercio, POV Male Character, Post-Canon, Protectiveness, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reposted. Bobby's day out with Justin and Austin is ruined, and neither he or Justin take it well. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metaphorical Buses and Being a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Ugly Betty.

Bobby doesn’t even bother trying anymore.

“Bobby, back me up,” Justin demands.

Paying for the tickets, he says, “No can do, buddy.”

Austin smirks.

Justin scowls. “Oh, don’t look so superior. No offence, Bobby- but he once got Marilyn Monroe confused with Elizabeth Taylor. What does he know about the cinematic world?”

“None taken,” Bobby says.

“I’m not denying Audrey Hepburn didn’t have enormous stage presence,” Austin says. Taking Justin’s hand when they board the subway, he continues, “But when it came to subtle, heartfelt emotions-”

“She was the absolute best,” Justin insists. They both lean back against the window with their heads touching. “No one has ever come close to-”

“The American Film Institution disagrees with you, you know,” Austin says. “Of course, they’re wrong, too.”

“Just because you’re in love with-”

This time the interruption comes from a nearby man who snaps at them.

Through the red Bobby is seeing, some part of him knows he should handle this in a mature manner, but he sees his boy and Austin jump apart and let go of each other’s hands with hurt and shock on each of their face, and he finds himself ordering, “Call your grandpa, Justin,” before standing up and striding over.

0

“Well,” Hilda sighs, “at least, you got into the fight after they’d seen the show.”

“He has a broken arm!”

Bobby’s not sure how it is he was able to make the words out. They were almost loud enough to approach dog-whistle levels.

“Hey,” he says with what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Broken arm,” Justin repeats with a look at Austin.

Giving Bobby a tentative smile, Austin turns, wraps his arms around Justin, and nudges his hair with his nose. This seems to cause some of the tension to go away, but Justin still glares. “I can’t believe _I’m_ the one lecturing _you_ , but that was so not the right way to handle things. Mom, I can’t believe you’re not snapping your fingers and threatening divorce. And Austin, so help me, if you say anything even vaguely supportive of his actions, we’re breaking up!”

“Hey,” Bobby protests, but both Hilda and Austin shake their heads at him.

“Honey, you aren’t breaking up with Austin over him being proud of Bobby.” Leaving Bobby’s side to lean down in front of the two boys, she continues, “Papito, you’re right, Bobby could have handled things better, but he’s fine. His arm will be as good as new in no time, okay? I promise.”

Letting out a breath, Justin says, “I guess so. But I still want ice-cream.”

“I think they have some in the cafeteria,” Austin says. “I’ll buy.”

“Okay.” Justin gives Austin a brief kiss and practically drags him out, but Bobby notices Austin is more-than-willing to be dragged.

0

After the boys are gone, Hilda gives him a stern look and sits down on the side of his non-injured arm. He wraps it around her and asks, “Is he completely traumatised?”

“Have you met my son? He’s tougher than that,” is her response. “But you’re not eighteen anymore, Bobby. When people talk crap about him, as much as I share the urge to resort to bodily harm, it isn’t the right way.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But he was so happy today. They both were, and that jackass ruined it. We got up at six, dealt with Austin the human garbage disposal- seriously, that boy can eat-, I followed them up three flights of stairs because your son is dating a boy who honest-to-God believes that we could end up trapped in an elevator with the devil, listened to an argument over some actor I’ve never heard of, sat through a show where people supposedly sang in some language that definitely wasn’t in English, struggled to find food Justin would eat and to get enough food for Austin that didn’t leave us bankrupt, and then, listened to them arguing about who was the greatest actress of all time. And then, that jackass had to open his mouth.”

Lacing her fingers through his, she says, “I know. I’m sorry he ruined your day, baby. I hate that there are people who make Justin feel less-than.”

Squeezing her hand, he says, “Well, at least, we’re keeping up our drama quotient, ain’t we?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “And hey, at least, you got in several impressive punches of your own.”  

0

Standing, Justin stares.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo,” Bobby asks.

Carefully, Justin sits down next to him.

They sit in silence, and Bobby focuses on the fuzziness caused by the pain pills.

“Don’t be a hero,” Justin abruptly declares. “My dad was a hero, and he’s dead. My mom loves you. You make her so happy, and Aunt Betty idolises you, and Grandpa accepts you as part of the family. And- you’ve never tried to make me different or had a problem with me and Austin. So, don’t be a hero.”

Then, Justin’s gone, and Bobby left trying to process things in his confused, drug-addled brain.

0

The next morning, he sits down and watches Justin threading a needle.

“I shouldn’t have started that fight,” he says. “It was irresponsible and set a bad example and landed me with a broken arm.”

Justin glances over.

“But,” he continues, “I wouldn’t just throw myself in front of a bus for your mama. Whether you like it or not, whether you want me to or not, I’m always going to try to protect you- especially if something serious and dangerous is around. You, your mom, your grandpa, the chipmunk, you’re my family.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he says. “But hey, if I do, I think your boy might be able to find a way to bring me back.”

“Don’t encourage my boyfriend’s irrational belief in government conspiracies and paranormal events, Bobby,” Justin orders.

“Alright,” Bobby agrees. “I promise I’ll try to control my temper better in the future, okay?”

Giving a small smile, Justin nods. “Thank you for the wonderful day.”

“No problem.”


End file.
